our new governess, Miss Newton,” in a tone that implied she didn’t consider the information to be of much importance.
The governor gave me another sharp look. Recalling what Lord Henry had said about the governor not approving of him, I suspected that Lord Henry’s choice of employee was being evaluated and found wanting. My suspicions appeared to be confirmed when the governor said, “And where is your uncle?”
“Uncle Henry is unwell and sends his regrets,” Rollo said.
The governor made a loud “Harrumph!” noise in response to the excuse.
Liveried footmen served drinks to the guests, but not to me or to the sharp-faced woman standing near the wall on the other side of the room. The sharp-faced woman stared at a pretty girl chatting animatedly with a bored-looking Flora. Another family stood in a cluster at the other end of the room. The father wore a military uniform covered with gold braid, sashes, and medals, and his wife was dressed in the height of fashion. They had two sons around my age. I didn’t notice anyone near them who acted like a chaperone, so I decided they must be the perceived nonmagical threat for this party. The boys were handsome and dressed well enough to imply extreme wealth. Even without magic, they might be tempting to a young lady. Flora and her friend hadn’t seemed to notice them, though.
The governor brought Flora and Rollo across the room to introduce them to the young men’s parents. Out of a sense of duty (and no small amount of curiosity), I followed as unobtrusively as possible, arriving in time to hear the father introduced as General Hubert Montgomery, commander of British troops in the American colonies. The two boys were very gallant to Flora, though I got the impression she would have snubbed them entirely if her grandfather hadn’t been present. Rollo was far friendlier.
As I watched my charges, I felt a tap on my elbow. I turned to see a young maid. “Excuse me, miss,” she said, “but you are the chaperone for the Lyndons, are you not?”
“I am,” I confirmed.
“Lady Elinor has asked to see Lord Roland and Lady Flora.”
“I beg your pardon?” I said.
“Lady Elinor is their aunt,” the maid explained. “She’s an invalid, so she won’t be coming down. She’d like to see the children, though.”
“Oh, well, of course,” I said. “One moment.” I edged closer to the group and waited for a break in conversation before saying, “Excuse me, but Lady Elinor would like to see Lady Flora and Lord Roland.”
The governor turned to stare at me again, his eyes narrowing beneath bushy brows, and I feared I’d done the wrong thing. But then he smiled and nodded. “Of course. How could I forget? Run along, children, and see your aunt before dinner is served.”
The maid led us up the stairs and knocked on a bedroom door before opening it and gesturing for us to go inside. A woman’s voice from within said, “That will be all for now, thank you, Mary.”
The room seemed dark at first, but then I realized that was because it was so vast, larger than any bedroom I’d ever seen, so the light from the bedside lamps barely reached to the doorway. Rollo ran forward and sat on the edge of the imposing four-poster bed, leaning to hug its occupant. Flora followed more sedately and bent to kiss her aunt’s cheek. Feeling like an intruder on this family scene, I stayed in the doorway, but the woman’s voice called out, “Is that the new governess? Come inside, please. I’d like to meet you.”
I moved farther into the room and around to the head of the great bed. A woman of perhaps twenty-five lay there, propped up against a pile of pillows. Aside from having the sort of pallor that suggested she never saw the sun, she didn’t look that unhealthy to me. She was thin but didn’t have the gaunt, drawn look that came with extended illness. In fact, she was rather pretty, with wide-set green eyes and a mass of rich brown curls piled loosely on top of her head. She looked like a doll lying on a child’s bed.
Rollo stood and said formally, “Aunt Elinor, may I present Miss Verity Newton, our new governess. Miss Newton, this is Lady Elinor DeLancey, our aunt.”
I bobbed a quick curtsy, but before I could complete it, she waved her hand and said, “Bah, none of that, please.” Her voice was rich and warm, with a